


what's the matter, daddy?

by MooseFeels



Series: Commissions [1]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Bondage, F/M, M/M, Mild BDSM, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24033529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooseFeels/pseuds/MooseFeels
Summary: Trevor had no idea.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Series: Commissions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733704
Comments: 2
Kudos: 84





	what's the matter, daddy?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pseudanor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pseudanor/gifts).



> This was a commission for Brigid, written in exchange for a donation to the Navajo & Hopi Families COVID-19 Relief Fund.

"You mean...you can't be serious," he says, tugging off his boots, looking at Alucard and Sypha like the pair of them have both just grown another head. 

"No, no," Sypha says, and she brightens up, eager for an opportunity to explain. "It happens all the time. It's great."

He looks from Sypha, to Alucard. 

Alucard nods. 

Trevor is acutely aware of the fact that there is not any 'one' world, but instead a series of worlds transposed over each other, overlapping. Trevor has known this his whole life, from the first time he saw the way his father’s shoulders shifted deferentally walking into the hallowed walls of a church and the way his mother hung her head in submission when men came to discuss business with his father. The world between the walls of the Belmont estate was a different world than the one bounded by the borders of Wallachia, and a world different than the ones bounded by the will of archbishops and priests. 

Trevor is acutely aware of his nativity within a world that no longer exists. That is, there are some things he knows and understands, and there are many, _many_ more things he does not know or understand, but that's fine, because it's not his to belong to. 

"More than once?" Trevor says. 

"Sometimes with the assistance of medicine, but yes," Alucard says. 

It’s not just the people in the villages and in the cities-- Trevor knows he has long inhabited a different world than the ones Sypha and Alucard are a part of. There are some things that are perfectly, brilliantly a part of Trevor’s world (drinking, fighting, knife sharpening, campfires, whip conditioning) and there are other things that are completely beyond him, either by merit of ignorance or by dint of fate, which is why it’s not _surprising_ that both of them have apparently heard of men coming more than once whilst in an act of sexual congress, but it is something that Trevor has never heard of. 

Trevor swallows, his throat suddenly quite dry. 

Things between the three of them were weird for a long time, and now they're weird but in a new, different way. Things were weird between them in the way that Alucard would linger in Trevor's space just a little too long while sparring, not flushed, but panting. Weird in the way of Sypha pulling off her robes and sinking into the bath before either he or Alucard can leave the room. Weird in the way of Trevor, long and lonesome on the road, making fine company of his own right hand and catching eye contact with a wolf-that-isn't-a-wolf and neither of them quite looking away. Weird in the way of Sypha's voice catching high and sweet and pleased from somewhere not too far from the campfire, Alucard nowhere to be seen. Now things are weird in asking the inns for the biggest bed. Now Trevor catches stares not just for Sypha rocking up onto her tiptoes to kiss him, but also for slipping his own hand into the back pocket of Alucard's pants. 

Things were weird between them for a long time, but now each interaction between the three of them is as perfectly natural and sensible as an excommunicant, a speaker, and the prince of vampires engaging in regular sodomy all together at once. 

Here, in the privacy of this bedroom, Sypha divests herself of her robes. Normally they enclose her fully, obscuring her form ( _as if anything could truly obscure Sypha, as if anything could meaningfully blur the edges of an earth-bound star)_. "We know how hard you work," Sypha says, her voice music as she unwraps the closure of her outer-robe, hanging it over the other chair in the room. Her inner robes are thinner-- made in a finer wool that Alucard found for her. Next she sits down to remove her shoes. "We thought maybe tonight we could take care of you."

Trevor frowns. "I'm not a child; I can take care of myself," he says. 

Sypha is quick and light. She steps into Trevor's space and delicately sits down into his lap, facing him. Her hands are cool where they cup his face, fingers long and nails bitten to the quick. She runs her thumb over his cheekbone, under his eye, over his scar. "We know that," she says, her blue eyes clear and gentle and hungry. 

"Sypha speaks for herself," Alucard says. Trevor looks over to him, as he takes off his own coat ( _his coat which hangs open as immodestly as his shirt, showing off his broad chest_ ). He tosses his long blonde hair away from his face, removes his riding gloves, unbuckles his sword belt. He steps behind Trevor, works his fingers into Trevor's hair, pulls his head back, hard. Trevor hisses, feeling his heartbeat jump in his chest. "My purely selfish desire is to finally, finally test the Belmont stamina."

Trevor gasps as Sypha bends down to his exposed neck, licking, biting, sucking there. "Go fuck yourself," Trevor pants, looking into Alucard's honey-colored eyes. 

Alucard smiles, just barely. Standing over Trevor, not even deigning to tilt his head downward to look at him, glancing at Trevor down his long nose, he murmurs, "No, Trevor, I'd much rather fuck you."

Sypha’s laughter is like rainfall, as she pulls away from Trevor’s neck, to pull him into a kiss. “ _Please_?” She says, pulling away, letting her fingers drift over Trevor’s lips. 

Alucard’s grip loosens. He moves, just barely, to look at Trevor more directly. 

Trevor sighs. “I spoil you,” he says. 

Sypha squeals with delight, and her hands work quickly at the buckles that fasten Trevor’s mantle to his shoulders. Alucard lets him go to sit on the bed and pull off his long, shiny boots. 

Sypha kisses him again, her mouth open, her breath hot against him. Sypha kisses like she’s trying to prove something-- kisses the same way she talks in an argument, same way she throws fire and ice in a fight. Trevor, in a chair in a bedroom in an inn in the country, is content to be bowled over by her. By the way she bites his bottom lip, by the way she pulls away in gasps and brushes to grab air. By the tiny clawing pulls and whimpers in her voice that rattle through him.

Sypha kisses him, and when Trevor comes back into awareness, he is out of his mantle and his shirt is fully unbuttoned, his chest flushed with blood, his skin hot against the very air. 

Her eyes are wild, when she looks at him. Trevor can see fire dancing in them like laughter. “Let us take you to bed,” she says. 

Trevor doesn’t have the voice to answer; he nods. 

Alucard’s hands are unbearably strong when they tug Trevor up from the chair, bruising on his biceps. Trevor stumbles, clumsy under the force of Alucards guidance, out of the chair and onto the bed, where Alucard rips the shirts from his shoulders, fumbles unbearably with the closure on his pants. 

Sypha’s hands are clever and strong as they hold his wrists, as they pull him into sturdy loops of rope, affixed to the bedposts. Alucard, straddling his hip, expression cool and cruel and fascinated, is almost enough to distract him from it. 

“Thought...thought you wanted me--”

“This was your first mistake, Belmont,” Alucard purrs, threading his hands back into Trevor’s hair. Trevor hisses, involuntarily, the pull of his neck against his shoulders, the too-long ache of his spine. “ _Thinking_.”

Trevor feels Sypha at his legs, pulling his ankles into similar restraints. Alucard rocks up and forward, caging his head in his arms, his hair falling like a veil between them, catching the living light of the fire in the hearth across from the bed. 

Alucard kisses Trevor like he wants to swallow him whole and keep him locked in the hollow of his ribcage. 

His fangs, just barely, creep over the curve of his bottom lip. Trevor’s heartbeat stutters-- starts and stops and stammers. Alucard’s fingertips, heavy and punishing on his skin. Trevor hopes, distantly, that he bruises. 

“Move,” Sypha orders, and Alucard shifts to the side, to Trevor’s left. Sypha, like a bolt of chained lightning, curls into Trevor’s right. Her right arm thread under his neck, cradles his head with her hand dangling down to curl into the locks of his hair. She settles in close, nips at his earlobe, her breath the only thing he can hear, he can imagine, he can focus on. 

Alucard, to his left, is sucking on his clavicle, teeth scraping against the flesh, the bone. 

Trevor’s not sure if he’s breathing or if he’s combusting. 

“Sypha,” Alucard murmurs. 

“Mhm,” Sypha answers, and suddenly Sypha is perched on him, the weight of her settled over Trevor’s chest, her knees pressing into the mattress below, her hips cocked forward. 

“Alucard?” She asks. 

“Of course,” he answers, and Trevor watches Alucard’s pale hands reach around her, tangle into her shift, pull up as her arms go over her head, and suddenly, Sypha is fully nude, on top of him. 

Trevor knows that if there were justice in this world, Sypha would be safe to wander everywhere adorned only in firelight. He supposes that until such a world is born, he must be content to writhe underneath her. 

Her hand reaches down, among the wiry curls of her pubic hair, and Trevor, helpless, watches her clever fingers stroke herself. Feels her grind, against her own hand and against himself. 

“Sypha,” Trevor says. “Sypha-- Sypha please. _Please_ \-- please--” He pants. He feels Alucard between his legs and hears him chuckle. 

Sypha rolls her hips, presses the air from Trevor’s lungs. Bows her spine, to better grind against him. 

“Sypha, _please_ ,” he begs. 

“Put the man out of his misery,” Alucard says. 

“Has he earned it?” Sypha asks, eyes closed, head tilting to the side. 

“Yes,” Trevor says. “Yes.”

Alucard’s hands are cool. Trevor _yelps_ , hips bucking, as they wrap around his cock. 

Sypha settles forward, the interior of her thighs soft ( _plush, like velvet)_ against his ears. 

Her smell--

Alucard’s mouth-- his tongue--

The dip, where’s Sypha’s clit sits in the v between her legs, dipping there--

Sypha’s pubic bone, against Trevor’s chin--

Alucard’s mouth--

Alucard’s _fingers_ \--

Trapped between them, no thinking. Just the animal of sensation. 

“Trevor, Trevor, Trevor, Trevor,” Sypha says, above him, around him. “ _Trevor.”_

She cants her hips back. Trevor looks up at her. She’s sweating. She’s an angel. The air is cool, against the wetness on his face. 

She grinds back down. Trevor reaches to meet her with the flat of his tongue. 

Alucard’s fingers-- inside of him-- Alucard-- Alucard-- 

Alucard’s hand around him. Firm and fast and blinding. 

Trevor gasps, something sparking and catching deep inside of himself. He surges forward. Sypha’s voice shatters around him. 

“You’ll enjoy this,” Trevor hears Alucard say. That strange kind of hearing, the kind that happens in Trevor’s mind and not his ears. “You’ll enjoy this so much the first time. Almost as much as you’ll like it the second.”

Trevor moans. 

“ _Louder!”_ Sypha cries.

“Listen to her,” Alucard says. “ _Listen to us_.”

Alucard’s fingers--

Trevor moans, breathless. Feels it more than he can hear it, his focus totally trapped by the sound of Sypha’s sighing breaths and Alucard’s pants and murmurs. 

Sypha ( _Sypha, Sypha, Sypha, Sypha_ ) freezes in place around him, holding him trapped underneath her ( _buried by her, sheltered by her_ ), and her voice goes high, goes wordless. 

Inside him. Around him. On top of him. 

Alucard’s hand, jacking him. 

“That’s it,” Alucard says. “So good, Trevor. Just for us.”

Trevor whimpers, as Sypha rolls off of him, flops down beside him, panting. 

Trevor turns his head, to look at her, at the blush over her cheeks and the plumpness in her mouth, biting her lip, at the--

“ _Trevor_ ,” Alucard _says_ , and he looks up at him, helpless. Looks up at Alucard, at his golden eyes, at him, naked, jacking him, holding him tightly. “ _Now_ ,” he says.

It pulls something out of Trevor, something animal and wild. And he comes, pulling hard against the rope binding him to the bed, Sypha hot against his side and Alucard with his eyes the color of tokay _compelling_ him, with his voice and his hand. 

Trevor’s pretty sure he’s about to go blind. Just brightness and _clarity_ , crashing through him. 

And slowly he comes back into his body, into the rope rubbing rough on his wrists and ankles and the cooling sweat on his skin and into the sight of Alucard perched between his legs, still-- 

Still holding his cock. 

Trevor’s panting. 

Alucard smiles. A predator. 

And his hand _moves_ and Trevor _yelps_ and his blood seems to stop before _raging_ through him and--

“Oh, God,” Trevor says, voice cracking. “The second time.” 


End file.
